Backfire
by LadyAlambiel
Summary: At least the only backfire occurred when Edmund set his snare.


Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't...

Summary: At least the only backfire occurred when Edmund set his snare.

A/N: This story is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe. Enjoy!

**Backfire**

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"Have you ever done this before?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

I hung my head, sighing as I held the quivering tree branch in place. "Will you just finish placing the snare, Edmund? I have a meeting that I'm not allowed to miss and I can't leave until you set up the snare and correctly deploy it."

The twelve-year-old smirked at me. A familiar glint in his dark eyes. "Why's that, Kat?"

"Because-" I cut myself when I caught a glimpse of something moving on the other side of some thick bushes. It was gone in an instant. Hopefully, it was a guard sent by Oreius because he now regretted making me oversee this part of Edmund's training. I still didn't know why Cletus didn't take him out. The Faun Captain had taken Peter out last week. Then the other swordmasters had a very, very, very long meeting according to Alithia and somehow they came up with the gem of an idea of sending me with Edmund. I had a sneaking suspicion that Murphy planted the stupid idea in the Kentauri's thick skull as part of some plot to torment me through 'training.' "Because Oreius is a boneheaded stallion, that's why."

"He could have made you go on another survival run. It's set."

"He's too worried I'll stumble into a Ghoul pit or something along those lines." The sense of being watched made me look over my shoulder.

"Oreius actually said that?" Edmund snickered. "And I just pull this to trigger it, right?"

"What? No, wait!" I yelped as the snare snapped but not forward, instead it flung backwards, wrapping around my ankles, and pulled. That was also about the time that I hit my head. When I next opened my eyes, I was dangling upside down and Edmund was, oh, at least ten feet below. "Edmund! You built the snare backwards! How did you do that?"

"I don't know!" He was staring up at me then he looked around. "I'll go get help! Don't move!"

"Edmund!" It was too late. The little brat left me hanging in the air. Upside down. I sighed. I should have made him do the snare where you have to walk into the rope loop and there's another rope to ease the catch to the ground. But no, Oreius ordered me to teach Edmund this specific snare.

I sighed then swung my arms up so I could grab the rope just above my feet. This would also have to be the day where I only had a single knife with me. Wiggling the knife out of my boot, I considered whether I really wanted to cut the rope. It was a long drop after all… The smart thing to do would be to wait for Edmund to fetch someone I could at least land on.

Swinging my arms up, I tugged on the rope…just in case. The noose actually tightened around my ankles. The woods went silent. I glanced around and instinctively tightened my grip on my knife. Ow. I hissed in pain then let myself hang fully upside down again so I could examine where the knife had cut me. A long line of blood trailed down the side of my hand from where I had sliced into the fleshy part of my palm. Typical.

Well, at least there weren't any- A chilling howl filled the air. I closed my eyes. _Really? Murphy, why do you hate me so much?_ Opening my eyes, I watched as a skinny grey Werewolf slunk into the glade. It was favoring its left leg to the point that the limb was dragging behind it slightly. That was actually in my favor. It looked up at me and its lips quivered then pulled back to reveal a mouthful of crooked but very sharp teeth. "Know you! Know you! Eat you! Eat you! Alambiel! Eat you!"

Oh how lovely, this one knew my name too. There had to have been some sort of newsletter sent to all Werewolves telling them I was the newest resident of Narnia. "You have to get me first, you mangy mutt!"

The Werewolf gibbered then leapt at me. I tensed but his gimpy leg hadn't allowed him to gather enough strength in his launch. The Fell creature swiped uselessly from over a foot below my head then tumbled back to the ground. He snarled and circled below me. "Come down! Come down!"

"No."

The creature drew back then howled in rage and hunger. I shifted my knife. The Werewolf leapt up, arms outstretched and jaws snapping. I threw my knife. The Werewolf yelped then gurgled before falling to the ground with my knife buried in his throat.

Another howl filled the air and I sighed. How did I turn into some sort of Werewolf piñata? The next Werewolf was bigger and, unfortunately, in perfect health. I watched him warily as he raised his muzzle, eyes half-closed, and tested the air. His matted brown pelt was thicker too so my little boot knife wouldn't have been as successful against him. His lips pulled back into a macabre grin as he looked up at me. "Meat and blood. Fresh, juicy, manflesh meat."

Yeah, that wasn't creepy at all. I tensed when he tensed then swung myself up, wrapping an arm around my legs. There was a definite tug on my tunic this time though. I was in so much trouble. So I did what any sensible person who didn't have any weapons or means to run away would do… I screamed as loud as I could. I do admit to a small twinge of pleasure when the Werewolf reacted by clamping his hands over his ears. My secret weapon, well, my other secret weapon: screaming bloody murder. I pulled myself up a little more, took a deep breath, and screamed again.

The Werewolf snarled then ran at me and jumped. His claws sunk into my tunic and just scraped against my back. I heard the twang of a bow then the Werewolf's deadweight yanked me down before ripping the back of my tunic. That was not something I cared to replicate, by the way.

I let my arms drop and hung there as Oreius, Ardon, Cletus, and several other soldiers burst into the glade. I scowled at them. "You did this on purpose!"

Oreius looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. "The Werewolves were not intended."

I pointed at Cletus. "Did Peter trigger the trap backwards on you?"

The Faun Captain nodded.

"I should've guessed." I looked at the two Centaurs. "Well? You are going to get me down, right?"

Ardon moved toward but stopped when that evil, diabolical, Murphy-driven Kentauri raised his hand. "Wait."

"What do you mean wait? No wait. Get me down!"

Oreius surveyed the glade containing two dead Werewolves. Then he looked back up at me and stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "It seems the Werewolf pack has moved closer to Cair Paravel. There are at least three others lurking in the woods. Since your hand is bleeding, it seems best to allow you to continue as bait for the Werewolves so we might eliminate the threat with ease."

"I'll eliminate your armory. Make it collapse in on itself with your armor being tossed into the Northern Marshes as a special treat."

Oreius flicked his tail and somehow I just knew he was trying not to laugh. "That would be more of a concern if you could get yourself down."

He actually started to turn away. He was going to leave me here! "I'll tell Alithia what happened to you and Ardon." That got their attention. "I will tell her exactly what happened to you and Ardon three weeks ago that caused you both to return to the Cair with sprains and bruised ribs. I don't even have to get down. I'll just send an Osprey with the message."

Ospreys were notorious gossips, worse than Cats and almost as bad as Bees and Hens. Anything they were told that wasn't in the strictest of confidences would be army gossip before sundown. Oreius gave a curt nod and Ardon pulled me down so Cletus could cut the rope. I had to take a moment or two to regain my equilibrium but only the Faun Captain stayed with me. He watched me stand then lowered his voice and leaned toward me. "What did happen?"

I glanced at where the Centaurs had disappeared then whispered back, "No idea. I only know about it because Alithia was grousing about tending unexplained injuries and how she thinks they're too old to have such injuries."

At least the only backfire occurred when Edmund set his snare.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! This is my 190th story! Only ten more to reach my goal of 200 by Veterans' Day. If you have any requests or suggestions, please let me know! Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one!**


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